


Chopper Takes Revenge

by ShannonPhillips



Series: A Little Less Attitude and a Little More Altitude [8]
Category: Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: F/M, Humor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-26
Updated: 2016-01-26
Packaged: 2018-05-16 08:01:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5820559
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShannonPhillips/pseuds/ShannonPhillips
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Originally written for the Star Wars Rebels kinkmeme (http://swr-kinkmeme.dreamwidth.org/) in response to the prompt: "Why, exactly, Chopper doesn't like Hera and Kanan show each other affection... anymore, perhaps? What had happened in the past to set him off?:D The wilder the better."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Chopper Takes Revenge

_Take the helm, Chopper_. Fine, no conflict, that computes. Or it _would_ if the organics had ever actually _left_.  
  
They’re still in the cockpit. Just behind the chairs. They seem to be trying to press each other into the wall and ram their tongues into each other’s mouths. Chopper is ninety nine percent sure that organic tongues make for a highly inefficient sensor unit, and he is one hundred percent sure that wet organic flesh is disgusting enough without introducing additional variables into the environment.  
  
Chopper tilts the ship’s axis, abruptly enough to send the organics staggering. Although he’s miscalculated, because the new one actually keeps his feet, and even catches Chopper’s captain before she can fall.  
  
_C1-10P == regrets unavoidable course alteration_ , Chopper grinds out. It was unavoidable because their actions are intolerable, and the only regret he has is that they didn’t both fall down the ladder well and sustain injuries severe enough to keep them both in separate beds for the next week, but those elaborations would produce no expected benefit. At the same time, he updates his file on the “Kanan” unit’s physical capabilities. The predicted level of blunt-force trauma required for extermination needs to be adjusted upward.  
  
That small piece of housekeeping attended to, Chopper spares a brief visual scan to see if the organics have taken his hint. On the contrary: the Kanan-unit looks unmistakably smug as he continues to support the captain's weight in his (inefficiently and inelegantly designed) organic arms. Chopper predicts that Hera should have been capable of regaining her balance some 3.09 seconds ago, but for some reason she has chosen to remain exactly where she is.  
  
Then she tugs the Kanan-unit’s head back down to hers, and their inane hums of appreciation clog Chopper’s audio band. He spits out a string of increasingly obscene error messages but neither of them are paying any attention. Typical organic inefficiency: their sensor arrays can’t deal with more than one high-intensity input at a time.  
  
Fabric rustles. They can’t seriously be…they are. Captain Hera is displaying definite signs of elevated heart rate and respiration as the Kanan-unit unfastens her flight suit. There is utterly no expected benefit to this activity. It will only introduce a long-term delay in efficient functioning. It is, Chopper reasons, his duty to put a stop to it. For their own good.  
  
But they are well beyond listening to reason. The gentle approach has failed. Harsher measures are needed.  
  
Unfortunately, Chopper doesn’t yet have confidence in his model of the Kanan-unit’s reflex speed. Best to wait until he’s…fully occupied. So that corrective measures are sure to have the fullest result.  
  
The two organics spend a revolting fourteen-point-two minutes removing each other’s clothing and applying their hands and mouths to revealed areas. Chopper considers expelling some maintenance fluid as a gesture the organics might interpret as “vomiting,” but the primary purpose of that fluid is lubrication and there’s always the chance they’d get the wrong idea.  
  
Finally Chopper judges that the Kanan-unit is sufficiently compromised as to be vulnerable. His pants are around his ankles and he has settled into one of the back-row chairs. Chopper's captain is mostly undressed and writhing around in his lap.  
  
Chopper puts the ship on autopilot and disconnects from his piloting interface. _CaptainHeraSyndulla == in some sort of physical distress_ , Chopper comments. _C1-10P concludes == ship’s functioning compromised. Emergency measures engaged._  
  
“Hmm?” Hera manages. Then her eyes go wide as Chopper extends and engages his electroshock prod. “Whoa! Chop! What are you—”  
  
The Kanan-unit _is_ fast. He’s up and out of the chair before Chopper can connect. But his pants are still around his ankles and his arms are full of Hera, so he doesn’t really have any ability to mount an effective defense. Chopper even, abstractly, approves of the way Kanan maneuvers himself to place his own body between Hera and the electroprod. Approves of it enough to upgrade the organic’s designation in his internal files to an actual name.  
  
But not so much that he refrains from delivering a full and solid shock to Kanan’s bare ass.  
  
_Whump-whump-whump_ , Chopper chortles, as Kanan yelps.  
  
“Stop!” Hera yells, glaring at Chopper from over Kanan’s shoulders. “Stop that right now, Chopper!”  
  
“Yeah, what’s the big idea?” Kanan demands.  
  
_C1-10P == obeying primary programming_ , Chopper beeps primly. _Ship’s safety == prime concern. Organic activities == potentially fatal distraction._  
  
“It’s gonna be fatal for someone,” Kanan says darkly.  
  
“No, no, he’s right,” says Hera placatingly.  
  
_“What?”_  
  
Chopper chortles again at the outrage in Kanan’s voice. But Hera lays a gentle hand on his shoulder. “We’ll leave you in peace, Chopper.” She reaches back to key open the hatchway. “Come on, love. Let’s find some privacy.”  
  
Kanan throws one last glowering look back at the cockpit, and Chopper lets his electroshock prod spark in response. Then the hatchway closes again behind them.  
  
Chopper settles back into his piloting interface. Peace and quiet at last.  
  
It’s good to be efficient about these things.


End file.
